Thanksgiving has come and gone:

As a child, the best part of your life begins the day of your Thanksgiving celebration. Turkey, gravy, and stuffing was the best, followed by yummy deserts! The day after meant the Holiday Season was here and Christmas traditions could begin. Oh, what I wouldn’t give to have those days back. Sharing memories will have to do.

Christmas music started to play after Thanksgiving. There was no department store shopping for us way back when because most places were closed in our little town. We had a Lawson’s Party Foods (best chip dip EVER!), Isaly’s Dairy market (famous for chipped chopped ham and sky scraper ice cream cones), and a Gray Drug Store that was opened, if we were lucky. They were all within walking distance and most convenient.

Fall decorations slowly came down, and the cleaning began. My sister Jayla and I had assigned chores that had to be completed once all the fall things were packed up and put away. We had to dust, vacuum, scrub the kitchen and bathroom floors, and our daily duties of making our beds and cleaning our rooms. We each had our own rooms until Jolie came along.

When Jolie was born, Jayla and I shared a bed, as well as the bedroom. Jayla liked to pull the covers up tight around her neck and I liked my arms out over top of the covers. Sharing a bed with your sister is your first lesson in life about compromise. But one of my favorite memories of laying in bed together is of Christmas Eve. We would debate about Santa Claus getting into our house, how reindeer could fly, and if we had been good enough to get what we really wanted for Christmas. Would it be under the tree in the morning?

One time, while we were trying to fall asleep, we heard an unfamiliar noise. It seemed to come from the roof above us and we immediately stopped talking and listened. We were quiet as two little church mice. I looked at my big sister in the very dim room with only a small nightlight and asked “Was that Santa and his reindeer on our roof?” Jayla said “I don’t know, but I heard it too!” We laid there quietly and fantasized in our own little heads what it was that we heard that night, but we both heard it. The next morning bright and early, we peered out the door into the living room, and sure enough, there were bright colored packages under the tree! We just knew it was Santa that we heard last night. We just knew it!

After Thanksgiving, it was also that time of year when we couldn’t wait for it to snow. We loved to build a snowman or a fort, make snow angels, and throw snowballs at each other every chance we could get. We had a lot of neighbor friends in our age group that we’d play with all the time (still friends with them on Facebook even though there’s many miles between us all.) It was a really great neighborhood to grow up in and I am sure our parents were happy we occupied ourselves daily. Sometimes my Mom would yell for us to come in just so we could warm up our hands and feet and dry out our gloves and hats in front of the heater vents. We would beg to go back out, and eventually, round two would begin. Sometimes, we even got Mom to come out and help us build a snowman. I remember her going thru her sewing box to find us some buttons for the eyes and mouth. We also begged for a carrot nose, even though she probably needed it for cooking, but she always gave in to us for a snowman.

We had an old red barn behind our property used for various businesses back in the day. It had two ramp ways that were used as loading areas. One of the ramps was a bit more steep than the other. It made the best slide ever! Our neighbor directly across the street- her Father worked for Armor Foods and would bring home large heavy duty pieces of plastic from time to time. We would use a big piece of the plastic to sit on and slide down the ramp and all the way across the street (which was rarely traveled) and into the bushes! We would do this until the snow was compacted and turned very slippery (The ramps weren’t being used at the time, so no one cared. I’m pretty sure this activity would not happen in today’s world.) My Mother could see us out the back window across the yards and up on the hill by the old red barn. She was always worried we’d break our necks out there, but let us have the fun. Those were some of the best days of our lives.

Except for the occasional fight when Jayla would push me down into a large snowbank and I could hardly get up and out of it. I’d get snow in my little red boots and cry. Jayla taught me not to be such a cry baby and told me to stop or she wouldn’t play with me any more. So I usually stopped my crocodile tears and dealt with cold feet, but that was better than running home and being a tattle tale. If Jayla got in trouble, that meant we both couldn’t go out and play because my Mom wouldn’t let me wander around outside without my big sister, so I had to toughen up a bit and take the bad with the good.

I wouldn’t trade having a big sister for anything!

Last known live tree I had while living with my Mother-in-Law in 1979- my son’s 1st Christmas. There are many pictures of our family’s Christmas trees when we were young, but they are not in my possession.

A True and Funny Story:

The photo of my little sister Jolie above was taken in our kitchen around 1981. That is homemade pizza dough, but Mom would buy Prego sauce on many occasions to make them in a hurry for dinner.

I love this picture because we spent so much family time in this kitchen. I look around and see so many old fashioned things- the table and chairs, Tupperware; sugar container, measuring bowl, and salt and pepper shakers, an old glass pop bottle, and the wreath hanging on the wall was hand-made with red yarn. Also noted is the cheese. This was back in the days of no bags of shredded cheese. She used a cheese grater and I could almost taste this homemade pizza just looking at it! There’s also a pile of junk next to the stove. That is where my Mom would pile stuff up that needed to go down into the basement (you can see the pocket door to the far left.) My Dad would take it all down for Mom when he would go down to work on his bench and fix stuff. When you don’t have a garage, the basement is where everything goes to hide.

But the beauty of this picture is my little sister Jolie. If you read my book (Painter of Shells) you would know that my little sister was number 3 of 4 children and born with a hip deformity. From birth, she spent at least two years in body casts and leg braces. No one could guarantee my parents that her hip socket would develop and function as a normal hip joint, or that she would walk without a severe limp. So you could imagine how delighted we all were, that when all was said and done, she did indeed walk normal.

Jolie came along 8 years later than me, so a lot of my memories are from the 8 years of just Jayla and I. What I do remember best is Jolie’s first couple of years in the casts and her toddler years. Once I was a teenager, I didn’t spend as much time playing with her because we had a baby brother that came along and occupied her time.

Jolie loved to play house and take care of her baby dolls. One of her very first Christmas presents from Santa, once she was out of her cast and braces, was a kitchen set with stove, refrigerator and a working sink. Jolie had no idea how hard Santa had to work at getting it all put together and into our living room! If my Dad thought the fireplace was a challenge, he had no idea that he needed to be a rocket scientist, or that it would be a 3 man job assembling a play kitchen!

Our Uncle Frank (INO- In Name Only- not by blood) helped him assemble it in our basement, and I think Jayla’s boyfriend also. Then Santa had to hustle on Christmas Eve to quietly carry it all up the stairs and next to the tree. It was an ordeal, but a priceless memory to see her face on Christmas morning! She wanted to cook and do dishes right off the bat! Of course, after the week of Christmas, it all had to go back down in the basement for her to play with because we simply didn’t have enough space for everything in our living room and still see the TV. We shuffled things around in our house constantly! My Mom called everything we did “a three act play!”

I believe it was the following Christmas that Santa added a table and 4 chairs to her set. It also came complete with a play-date friend- a baby doll that stood taller than Jolie with beautiful strawberry blonde hair! It was hilarious to wake up and see the doll sitting on a chair at her table. Kind of freaky when we peeked out to see if Santa had come and two eyes were staring back at us!

I will share more Christmas stories after Thanksgiving, but here’s the part that still makes me laugh out loud:

I have been telling people for years how my little sister Jolie grew up to be a flute player (flautist) in our musical family. Once she was in high school, she played in the high school marching band, which was the best band in the tri-state area! She eventually joined the flag line and led the band out onto the football field with fantastic displays of flag twirling! She attended the same high school that Bernie Kosar played football at and I remember the first game opener that season! I went with my Mom and Dad to see Jolie twirl, but got a pretty good bang for my buck seeing Bernie throw his first touchdown pass after a sensational drive down the field! We were all up on our feet screaming! A night I won’t forget, and the rest is history with Kosar becoming the QB for the Cleveland Browns.

But my sister was just as famous, at least to me! She went on to play in the Macy’s Day Parade! Or so I THOUGHT! I recently found out when I spoke with her that the high school band was there indeed! BUT Jolie wasn’t able to make the trip to NYC with the band that year. O! M! G!! I have been telling people for years that my little sister marched in the Macy’s Parade! I remembered watching them on TV, but she was not there!

BUT, she did march in the famous Disney Christmas Parade, which is definitely something to write home about! I also thought her son made it to Macy’s, as he played trumpet in the same high school band years later. WRONG again! Her Son marched in the Mile Long Parade in Chicago, but not Macy’s either. The joke’s on me! I’ve always told people that my Sister and her Son marched in Macy’s. It really doesn’t matter, because what they both did was still amazing and exciting, but my memory is a little twisted!!

So to all the people that might remember me telling you about my Sister and her Son; it was NOT at Macy’s…LOL!

I shall return with many more Christmas stories, but have the Happiest Thanksgiving this year! I hope you are creating memories with your family or friends. If not, I hope you have many good memories of all the good times you once had. Watch a funny movie like “Planes Trains and Automobiles.” Laugh till you cry! Drink wine or sip brandy. No matter who you’re with or what you do, be grateful you’re alive and thankful for your good health! Thank someone for their friendship or reach out to someone alone. Enjoy the day and the food you eat. We are the lucky ones that have lived to tell our stories thus far…

Thanksgiving Traditions:

Turkey, gravy, stuffing, mashed potatoes, candied yams, creamed corn, green bean casserole, red spiced apple rings (because we didn’t love cranberry sauce), hot dinner rolls and lots of butter. We eliminated soup and salad over the years because no one cared to use the space in our bellies for ordinary foods. Italian wedding soup became a Christmas Eve tradition.

As young children, we woke up to the smell of delightful scents coming from our kitchen. My Mom would sauté chopped onions, celery, garlic and fresh parsley for the stuffing so it could cool before mixing it all up and stuffing the bird. She would use the top of a Tupperware cake storage container and the Tupperware bread storage container as large plastic bowls for the broken bread to dry out. She’d place them on top of the refrigerator so we couldn’t get at them. Why, you might ask? Jayla and I would sneak pieces and roll them between our fingers until they were little doughball snacks!

The sink was full of icy cold salt water with our turkey bathing in it. We’d have cereal for breakfast because Mom didn’t have time to fuss over anything special. We were able to be lazy because at 9:00am, she had the Macy’s Day Parade on the television to entertain us. She would come into the living room now and then to see some of her favorite performers and enjoy the large balloons. After we saw Santa end the parade, my Mom then ordered us to start moving and get cleaned up so we could get into some nice clothes before helping to prepare the living room for the big feast between 1:00 and 2:00 (the size of the turkey determined the time we ate).

My Dad would start things off by re-arranging the living room. He usually had to remove an end table or the coffee table or both. Our Dining table was a drop-leaf table usually residing under the side window and up against the wall. We would help my Dad move it into the center of the living room, and then the 2 sides were placed in their upward positions. Once the sides were up, we’d pull it apart to get 2 additional leaf sections that were stored in the back of our front entrance closet put into place. We then placed the appropriate sized padded top sections over the entire table. Once the table was in place, we got the honors to drape it with a large lacey tablecloth, and a clear vinyl went over the lacey one. My Grandma’s white milk glass candle holders were placed apart and centered in the middle with white tapered candles in them. My Dad would have to round up the dining room chairs scattered throughout the house. Beyond those six, he had several wooden folding chairs in the basement to allow for extra seating. Once everything was in place, we were all ready to set the table as soon as Mom gave us the green light. How exciting this all was every single year! It was like a special production of the symphony playing our favorite song!

By this time, my Dad had football games playing on TV (or we would beg him to hear Christmas albums on the stereo console record player!) My Grandmother would walk down the street to our house, always showing up early, to help my Mom with food preparations and to oversee our performance! She would be sure to keep us in line while Mom was busy during the occasional argument during this performance. The smell of turkey filled the entire house, and eventually, my Mom let us set the table with Grandma acting as the conductor of the symphony.

We got to use the special China plates trimmed in silver with a blue floral print and sparse green leaves. (Mom saved S&H Green Stamps to purchase our China.) Grandma would remove them from the highest shelves of our cupboards (before we had the china cabinet) and carefully hand them to us like a delicate flower. Mom usually bought Fall motif dinner napkins to use with our daily silverware (Grandma had the good Sterling Silver stuff). We used 2 sets of salt and pepper shakers, 2 butter dishes, a couple of ornate serving spoons, and of course, glasses (not all matching- and ours were plastic) for our pop or ice water. Once the candles were lit, we were ready for the food. We could hardly wait for that moment my Dad got to carve the turkey. He always gave us a tiny taste of it or the stuffing, and my Mom always gave “the look” of approval or disgust, depending on the bird being juicy & tender, or dry & tough. The foods were all placed on the table, the gravy boat was full, and finally the dinner rolls- sometimes forgotten and a little over done. (It kind of became a joke.) We said the blessing with hands held all around the table, and then it was time to mangia! That means eat in Italian!

The symphony ended approximately 20 – 25 minutes later. That’s how long it took to pass the dishes and fill our bellies with all the excellent tasting food on that table. ALL the work my Mom and Grandma did for a 20 minute splurge. But it was awesome! Now it was time for the adults to chat and relax while Jayla and I cleared the table. It was one of the few days of the year that we didn’t mind cleaning up. However, there was almost always an argument of who would wash and who would dry. But it always got done, and the china was returned high up on the top shelves awaiting the next round on Christmas Eve. Jayla would actually climb onto the counter top and I would hand her the china. Eventually, an adult would scream at us for doing so, as we were supposed to pile it up on the kitchen table. I don’t remember ever breaking anything. But then again, cows can fly.

Every year was just a little bit different as to who would be sharing this big dinner with us. Sometimes, we were very disappointed that we kids had to sit at the kitchen table, as the adults filled the formal dining table in the living room. But no matter who was there for dinner, or what table you were at, the crowd always grew for coffee, deserts, and Pokeno or various other card games. Our front door was like a revolving door every Holiday with people coming and going. (Years later when we were older, Mom nicknamed our house Grand Central Station.) All were welcome, and absolutely no one went home hungry. My Dad always had to undo his belt buckle, but somehow managed to have another round before the night was over.

The best part of all this was that all who entered our home had no idea how financially difficult it was for my Parents to provide this fabulous feast. We might have to eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches the next week, but for one day, we were rich and fed everyone! I hear everyone complaining now about the prices of everything and inflation for this upcoming Holiday season. I guess some things never change, or the price gouging during these times just never stops. But my Mom and Dad never went to any food bank or Church for any help. My Dad worked over-time to make a few extra bucks and somehow managed to put out a spread for years!

My best memories of Thanksgiving are always about the great gathering of friends and family at our house and staying up later than usual. I remember one time that the Wizard of Oz was aired on or the night before Thanksgiving. I never could figure out what all the fuss was about when Dorothy stepped into Oz with flowers, trees, and the yellow brick road (and of course, the little people.) We didn’t have a color TV, so it was not as impressive until the day we watched it all unfold in color. We loved it either way!

The best part of the day was the visiting, the laughter, the reminiscing of days gone by, the games, and the anticipation of doing it all over again for Christmas. Only this time, presents would be involved….only if we stayed off the naughty list.

Jayla could sometimes push it a little too far for my comfort. (Laughing!!!)

A Series of Holiday Memories:

I am quite sure that me and my big sister Jayla drove our Mom crazy. Every year just before Thanksgiving, the anticipation of Christmas and all the festivities surrounding the Season filled our house to the brim. You did not bypass Thanksgiving and decorate early in those days, as many people do for one reason or another today. But that didn’t stop us from asking her if we could start decorating. We were like a broken record on repeat.

If we were really lucky and the weather was predicted to turn cold early, my Dad would sometimes put the outdoor lights up before Thanksgiving Day to avoid freezing his fingers to the bone. Jayla and I were thrilled because Daddy always let us help. (I’m quite sure we drove our Dad crazy too!) I don’t have any pictures of our house all decorated, but my Dad did take movies of it. Let me create a picture of it in your mind.

We had the large old-fashioned multicolored lightbulbs strung all the way up one side of the house, across the entire roofline, and down the other side. The two large windows in the front of the house (Mom & Dad’s bedroom, and the living room) had smaller multicolored twinkle lights all the way around each one. Candelabra lights of 3 (5 in the biggest front window) sat on each windowsill all the way around the house. The front door had twinkle lights around it with various door decorations hanging on it every year. Eventually, we started decorating the side windows, because more is better! We also lit the sidewalk leading from the driveway to the porch with large candy canes and two large lighted candles at the front entrance. As time went on, we added white twinkle lights to the large shrubs under the front windows. We pretty much lit up everything that you could string lights on without blowing a fuse! If it was cold outside, Mom would make us hot chocolate with marshmallows when we finally came in to warm us up.

Dad would suffer from dizzy spells from time to time, making it dangerous for him to be on a ladder. Jayla was still young, but not shy of heights, so my Dad agreed (after she hounded him half to death) to let her climb the ladder and string the lights. She didn’t care for all the up and down, as it was more time consuming. So she came up with a more efficient idea to string the lights up. She climbed up onto the roof, to my Dad’s dismay, and laid on her stomach with her head facing down towards the edge. It was a hip roof, so not as steep as a gable roof. My Mother nearly had a heart attack when she witnessed this display of courage and bravery, but Jayla would try anything once. I would help hold the lights from down below, and my Dad would feed them up to her. It was an awesome display of efficiency and so much quicker. She would just scoot along the rooftop’s edge on her belly placing hooks and lights and wallah!

Most of our indoor Christmas decorations were stored up in the cold attic of our house. The closet in the smallest bedroom is where the attic opening was with several built-in steps leading up to it. Even though my Mom said “no” to decorating yet, we would beg her to just let us start bringing some things down from the attic. You know, so they wouldn’t be so cold once we were ready to use them. (Any excuse we could come up with to start the process of decorating!) Perhaps we needed to check the bulbs that might be burned out so we could replace them before hand??? Sometimes- she would give in to us and let us bring some down and put them on the closet steps and floor.

By the way, there was this one time that Jayla almost put her foot thru the plastered ceiling! She tripped and stepped off the boards my Dad had up there to walk on and to store things on top of. She was fine, and so was the ceiling, but we were warned to be much more careful. Makes me think of the Chevy Chase attic scene in “National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation!” (Laughing)

We also drove my Mom and Dad crazy asking questions about Santa Claus. We did not have a fireplace and could not figure out how in the world he could come into our house without a chimney! So my Dad decided to buy a cardboard Fireplace with a chimney that reached up to the ceiling. I am sure there are pictures somewhere of this contraption that our parents tried to talk us into the idea that Santa could now enter our house without using the front door. I just don’t have any in my possession. (Perhaps Jolie has one.) It was red and white bricks with a black mantle and the chimney almost touched the ceiling. Putting it together was hilarious because the directions were like reading a book and cardboard pieces spread out everywhere! But somehow we managed. There was two logs in the fireplace with flames that lit up and flickered to look like fire by a small lightbulb with a slow rotating aluminum fan. It was the last and most difficult part of the assembly, and my Dad grew frustrated. I remember Jayla and I helped figure it out by looking at the pictures, and it was like my Dad hit the lottery! His girls were mechanically inclined and that made him so happy! Every year after that 1st time, it was Jayla and I that mastered putting it all together, and we were quite proud of it. However, we still couldn’t figure out how Santa could get his fat @ss down that cardboard chimney! My Mom came to the conclusion that it was magic! If she had told us that from the start, we would have never had that cute little fireplace and these wonderful memories…

Sharing another “Kodak Moment”

Nine more days until Thanksgiving. It was such a special Holiday when I was a child. It’s just not the same when your children are all grown and have families of their own, with new traditions or no traditions at all. Especially if you have moved away from your hometown and out-of-state, as I am now. So my memories are the best part of the day, as I will not be with my family again this year.

Turkey has all-but become a thing of the past, as I usually just make chicken now. Sometimes, I don’t even make homemade dressing (we called it stuffing) and I cheat with Stovetop. I make homemade mashed potatoes, but usually don’t do the sweet potatoes anymore, as we don’t eat as much as we did when we were young. Instead of the famous green bean casserole, I just make green beans. Instead of a corn casserole, I just make corn. If I want to kill two birds with one stone, I make Birds Eye mixed veggies. I always make homemade gravy, but my table sure isn’t full of traditional homemade foods like the good old days. That is a fact!

I remember my Grandma and my Mom planning well ahead, and the cookies were the first thing that they would attack, as they could be checked off the To Do list and in the freezer ahead of time. The pumpkins and the apples were purchased for the pies because cookies alone would never suffice at an Italian Thanksgiving. They sometimes ordered a fresh turkey, but I remember a big frozen bird also purchased ahead of time so it could be thawed gradually in the refrigerator. And if a complete turkey dinner with all the fixings wasn’t enough, sometimes they added Italian wedding soup as an appetizer! That too, would end up being made ahead of time and put into the freezer. And don’t forget the salad. You had to have something healthy on the table, right? There was always a loaf of Italian bread (or hot dinner rolls) with plenty of butter on the table with every meal, so why would Thanksgiving be any different?!

Being an Italian, every Holiday meal was like the biggest wedding feast you can imagine. If you think Thanksgiving wasn’t crazy enough, then hold onto your hats & mittens, because Christmas Eve and Christmas Day is just around the corner! You do it all over again, except the turkey will get replaced with homemade Cavatelli (always made with potato dough by my Dad), homemade spaghetti and meatballs, or lasagna. Christmas Day was usually Baked Ham cooked with 7Up (or Ginger ale) and garnished with slices of pineapple and maraschino cherries! Everything was huge because the leftovers fed your Aunt’s and Uncle’s family the day after when all the visiting began. Back then, school was out until Monday and Black Friday didn’t become a big thing until the 80’s, so visiting was the thing to do!

The visiting would sometimes consist of an after-dinner gathering. That meant you ate, cleaned the table, washed, dried, and put away the dishes (no dishwasher when I was a child). A big pot of coffee was brewed and the cookies and pies were ready for serving. (Jayla and I always tried to sneak a squirt of whipped cream right into our mouths, but damn that can for making so much noise!) We all waited for the car to pull up in the driveway, and then the hugging and the kissing started before they all got in the front door. The coats all went on my Mom & Dad’s bed, the noise level was turned up to high, and the cackles of laughter began! Adults around the kitchen table and the cousins in the living room, usually on the floor playing a game. We were lucky on those days, as we would be allowed to eat our cookies and drink our pop in the living room because there wasn’t enough room for all of us around the kitchen table. That’s what end tables were for- the kid’s pop and cookies. Some of our relatives had coffee tables that worked great also. We didn’t have one in the early years.

Cookies by the dozens, apple pie, pumpkin pie, chocolate pudding pie, and special for my Dad- homemade vanilla custard pie (sometimes lemon or coconut). Nothing ever store bought except for the ingredients that were needed to bake everything from scratch, or you’re not really Italian.

Sometimes we would gather at Grandma’s house for celebrations instead of ours. That was always a treat to us kids, even though we only lived three doors down from Grandma. (My family home on the left, dinner at my Grandma’s on the right.)

Modern day Thanksgiving celebrations are just not the same. Everyone is concerned more with the shopping, and rarely focus on large family gatherings. It costs too much money. Too many people have to work. The families don’t get along. Who can’t eat this, and who can’t eat that. I don’t feel like cooking. Let’s just go out and eat. Now with Covid- who has been vaccinated, and who has not. Too many people in the airports and on the roads.

I could go on and on, but what for? My Son once said to me years ago after his Grandma died (my Mom), “The Holidays just aren’t the same anymore without Grandma.” He’s right. Not just because she’s gone. It’s because no one wants to make the effort and put in the work that our parents once did to make everything so special. You can think that I live too far away now, but there were many years I was local. Gatherings became more far and few between once my Mom was deceased. I told my Son at that point in time, that it was up to him to start his own traditions with his immediate family. It doesn’t have to be a big gathering around a dining table. Travel to a destination. Celebrate with friends or family. Take your children to the movies, or have movie night at home. Go hiking with your family. Play football in the yard. Whatever you want to do, but make it special and memorable for your children. That’s what it’s all about- creating memories and traditions. I am most thankful for the effort my parents made to give us such wonderful memories!

In addition to my parents making the effort, we had extended family that also did it. Our parents and all of our Aunts and Uncles were never divorced and all had 2 – 4 children. None of the women worked outside the home in those days because they had full time jobs doing housework and taking care of children. I believe that was also a huge factor in the equation. Today’s reality is that everyone has to work to make ends meet. So who has the time to plan, prepare, bake, cook, clean and visit? It seems almost no one. So you must make the time, or your children will never have stories to tell and memories to share.

People laugh at me because I watch Hallmark movies all thru the Holidays. It is because they are the closest thing to being surrounded by family and good times! You know it will end happy, but it’s the beautiful story that gets you to the ending and the scenic locations in-between. Cabins in the mountains, horses in the country, the big city skyline, skiing down the slopes, singing around a Christmas tree, building a snowman, candlelight by the fire, etc. All the things I love are there for the watching and cost me nothing to see.

So think about creating a memory for your children. Once you are Grandmas and Grandpas, it’s time to relax and let someone else do all the dishes…

“Kodak Moments” Who Remembers?

The first camera ever produced was by Kodak in 1888 (invented by George Eastman.) The tagline “Kodak Moment” was coined by George Eastman in 1892 for an advertising slogan. It seems as appropriate today as it was 129 years ago.

Cameras have become as important to our lives as our heart and mind. They are like the air we breathe sustaining our every breath. Having a camera used to mean carrying it around wherever you went that might present that special “Kodak moment.” Now, it’s as easy as using your phone, which is usually handy dandy 24/7. We don’t leave home without it.

I remember my Dad had an old box-like movie camera when I was a young child. I don’t remember what the name of it was, but my Dad had a “Bell and Howell” movie projector with a white screen to project the movies onto, and it was just about the most exciting thing we ever did in our living room! Preserving those moments of weddings, picnics, and children touching the grass for the very first time, was huge entertainment back in the 60’s and 70’s. My Mom would make popcorn the old fashioned way in a pot on the stovetop burner, shaking it vigorously over the heating element as it neared the last few pops. Then she’d pour melted butter over it with a bit of salt for good flavor.

Pictures and movies of our loved ones, especially after one passes on, are the things we cherish most. They remind us of the special moments we spent together and fills us with joy. It brings “The Good Old Days” near and dear to our hearts.

Every Holiday season for me is a walk down memory lane. If you read my book “The Painter of Shells”, you know that my childhood days were some of the best days of my entire life, spent with a loving family full of traditions, hugs and kisses. We were of Italian descent and loved spending time with Grandparents, Aunts, Uncles, and Cousins.

Ah yes, the good old days and the “Art” of visiting! I can’t get enough of those memories during the Holidays. But I have also learned over the years that not everyone grows up with such good memories and traditions as I did. Perhaps not everyone was fortunate enough to have so many wonderful “Kodak Moments.”

I am going to share some of mine over the next several weeks as we approach the Holidays. My writing is always from the heart, and as you may know, “humor served up with a side of sarcasm” from time to time. So join me as I share some of the special moments that created my best memories.

I will start off by saying, once again, I have changed the names of the family members I speak of in my writing to protect their identities.

My Mom was only 17 and my Dad was 19 when it all began. They were married in the summer and were married until death parted them when my Mom was only 69. It was a shock to all of us that she had a dreadful disease living in her. When it finally started to surface, the Doctors did not know exactly what was wrong. She declined rapidly once she was diagnosed with Systemic Scleroderma, and my Dad was left to live his final days without the Love of his life. We were all completely devastated. But I am not here today to share that sadness. I am here to lift the spirits of anyone that has experienced tragedy and loss.

The Holidays will come and go whether you like it or not. My Mom died just before Easter. My Grandmother died just before Thanksgiving many years before. Easter was my Mom’s favorite Holiday (she was born and raised a Roman Catholic) and my Grandma lived for Thanksgiving celebrations! They both left us at 69 years of age and right before their favorite Holiday, leaving us behind and brokenhearted. The saying “life goes on” brings on new meaning when it suddenly affects your life, and you don’t really care if it does or not in those first few weeks.

I chose to love and preserve their memory every Holiday season. The memories my Mom and Dad and their Moms and Dads created for our Family to cherish will definitely live on in our Family.

That first Thanksgiving after my Grandma’s passing was the worst. (Today, November 15th, marks the anniversary of her death.) My Mom could not function. So I took the lead role as grocery shopper and head cook, and hosted the turkey dinner for our immediate family. My Mother cried most of the day once it arrived, but when she looked back over the years, she was so grateful to be surrounded by her family and relieved of the stresses of dealing with dinner.

That Thanksgiving is memorable, but in a very different way. It was the very first Holiday I learned to deal with loss and grief. I knew my Grandmother would have wanted us to honor her favorite Holiday by spending it together with family. We reminisced and we cried, but my Grandmother would be proud that we carried her love in our hearts and continued the traditions she loved so much. How could we not love that day, knowing how much she sacrificed and did for us all those years before?

So today is a tribute to my Grandmother. She was spunky and had more gumption than any other woman I ever knew! She was the rock in our childhood. She was our babysitter, and she was our confidant when we couldn’t tell Mom! She was a great cook and made the best pastries of all time! She always had a stash of chocolate somewhere and taught us to share. She had a fine silver teapot that she’d polish to entertain her bridge club ladies, when she could hardly afford to feed herself! (Grandpa died when she was 45, and no life insurance.) She was witty and smart and we called her “Granny Good Witch!” She is the first woman I ever heard say “Mafongool” (translation; Mother F’r). I would ask my Mom “What did Grandma just say?” and I never got an explanation, except to NEVER repeat it! “Do as I say, not as I do!” was often an explanation growing up in an Italian family.

One of the funniest things to ever happen when Grandma was babysitting me and Jayla while Mom and Dad were out:

Jayla did something and we got in trouble. I don’t remember what it was, but I’m sure it was her fault because I was a goody two-shoes kid! (Laughing!) Grandma ran into the kitchen to get the wooden spoon (and you know what that means!) So while she was out of our bedroom, Jayla ran into the closet to hide under stuff, and I zoomed under the bed like Flash Gordon! When Grandma returned seconds later, the room was totally silent. You could hear a pin drop! Grandma started yelling “I know you’re in here! I’ll find younes in here!” She then took off one of her shoes and threw it under the bed to see if we were under there. I grabbed that shoe and slid it out to the other side so she wouldn’t suspect I was hiding under there! She then went into the closet and looked for us in there, but Jayla must have morphed into the invisible child, because Granny came up empty!

She gave up, and a few minutes later, she said out loud “Younes can come out now. I won’t beat your bottoms, but you’d better not do it again!”

Awe…the great memories we have! I Love you Grandma with all my heart, and will miss you till the day I die!!